What does it mean to be far-right, in 2024? Once it was simple; a sympathy for nihilist, racist ultra-nationalism would suffice. However, the question seems to be increasingly difficult to answer. The boundaries that traditionally delineated the far-right have blurred, complicating the political landscape.
Consider France, where the far-right National Rally, under the leadership of Marine Le Pen, seeks to rebrand itself simply as “the right.” As President Emmanuel Macron grapples with political fallout from his lacklustre performance in the European elections and an impending snap parliamentary election, the National Rally finds itself ahead in the polls. This strategic repositioning aims to distance the party from its historical associations with Fascism and anti-Semitism and to present it as a legitimate conservative alternative. Should the National Rally emerge as the largest faction in the French parliament, it would herald a significant redefinition of French conservatism.
A global re-branding
There are two critical points here. First, we can see a rebranding attempt of the far-right which extends far beyond France. Parallel debates are going on elsewhere in the West. For example, does it still make sense to define Giorgia Meloni, Italy’s prime minister, as a “far-right” politician? She governs more as a traditional small-c conservative.
In the UK, Nigel Farage’s Reform UK is creeping ahead of the governing Conservatives. There is even talk of a post-election reverse takeover of the Tories by Farage and his ideas, which would truly redefine the right in Britain.
As electorates in countless countries shift rightward, the once radical positions of far-right populism are increasingly becoming mainstream centre-right politics. What was once perceived as extreme is now often viewed as conventional.
The critical exception: Donald Trump and democracy
There is however one exception; attitudes towards democracy. If a political leader refuses to accept the results of an election and blames conspiracies of the “deep state” for their loss (in reality, the normal functioning of democracy itself) then he or she is clearly on the far-right. Donald Trump, the Republican presidential candidate for 2024, epitomises this. His refusal to accept the 2020 election results and his incitement of an insurrection underscore his fundamentally anti-democratic disposition. This places him inarguably on the far-right. Any previously Reaganite Republican who now supports him — like Mitch McConnell and countless billionaire donors — has betrayed their democratic responsibilities.
Read more in Daily Maverick: Trump and Zuma — authoritarianism, nationalism and inflammatory populism
Conversely, politicians like Meloni, despite advocating policies that may discomfort liberals, operate within the bounds of democratic norms and structures. Thus, in 2024, the demarcation between the right and the far-right may well hinge on adherence to democratic principles.
The shift to the right is not just a consequence of neoliberalism
But second, and perhaps more pertinent, is why did this happen? Where has this rightward shift of the electorates of the West come from? After the year of Trump and Brexit that was 2016, much was made out of the links between the neoliberal austerity post-great financial crisis and populism. As Janan Ganesh in the Financial Times has argued, “Decades of liberalism had created deindustrialised towns, precarious middle-earners and a lavish, self-dealing overclass. Hence the revolt. Brexit and Donald Trump were the consequences of laissez-faire”.
The failure of trickle-down economics, the ruinous effects of untrammelled globalisation, the unstoppable upswelling of asset prices — from Bitcoin to Nvidia to US real estate — and the unparalleled levels of inequality all bred contempt for the liberals. In this reading of history, neoliberalism led to the emergence of the “basket of deplorables, bigots and extremists”, in the words of Hilary Clinton.
Yet this is just wrong. The explanation falters when considering why France, a nation characterised by robust socialism, is on the brink of electing a right-wing government. With government spending constituting over 50% of GDP and extensive social protection mechanisms, France’s political shift cannot be solely attributed to economic factors.
The rightward trend transcends simple economic reasoning. The far-right — whether law-abiding or otherwise — has proven to thrive in both social democracies (Austria) and market-oriented (US) systems, in affluent (the Italian north) and impoverished (former East Germany) regions, in nations that have experienced austerity (the UK) and fiscal indulgence (once again, America). This rightward evolution of voter preferences, known as the Overton Window, defies conventional economic explanations.
Implications for SA
For South Africa, interpreting these global shifts through a lens of post-apartheid neoliberalism is insufficient. It oversimplifies and misdiagnoses the complexities facing the country. What South Africans seek are opportunities that may be better provided by embracing, rather than rejecting, market-oriented policies.
Moreover, the recent enthusiasm among South Africa’s capitalist elite for a broad coalition under President Ramaphosa may reflect a perilous and hubristic overconfidence. This coalition, while intended as a bulwark against anti-democratic forces, reveals underlying fragility. Ramaphosa must recognise the global trend toward right-wing politics, which threatens the cohesion of democracies like South Africa. Failure to effectively manage his coalition could leave the political landscape vulnerable to populist movements by the time of the 2027 ANC conference.
The vultures are circling. DM